3 Bean There, Done That by Sandra Balzo

Author:Sandra Balzo [Balzo, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Cozy Mystery
Goodreads: 4001214
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2008-08-31T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Frank, faithful dog and companion, was waiting for me when I got home. We went through our usual routine before I stepped in. Me, unlocking the door, Frank crashing into the door. Same old, same old.

Once I wedged myself in, Frank did a little happy dance round and round as I attempted to scratch him behind the ear.

‘That’s a good boy, Frank. I’m glad to see you, too.’

Overwhelmed by love, the furry lug jumped up to put his paws on my shoulders. That placed him eye to eye with me.

His breath smelled of pigs’ ears and he was drooling a bit, but all in all, he was the most appealing male I’d been with today, with the exception of Stephen.

‘You’re always glad to see me, aren’t you, Frank?’

Frank gave a full-body wriggle and licked my nose. ‘You love me no matter what. Don’t you, boy?’

Another lick on the nose and another shimmy, this one strong enough to send a string of drool sailing.

Grateful as I was to inspire this kind of mindless adoration, I was a realist. I moved aside a hank of hair and looked him in the eye. ‘You have to pee, don’t you?’

Frank jumped down and ran for the door, woofing. So much for faithfulness and unconditional love, even from the canine set. All I was to him was the bathroom attendant.

By the time I got there, the dog stood squared up to the door, top of his head pressed against it, nose pointed down to the floor.

‘You’ll have to move back, if you want me to open it,’ I told him.

He didn’t move.

I turned the knob and managed to get it open a crack. Frank shuffled back an inch.

‘More,’ I said.

Another step. Or four, if you count all the feet.

At this rate, it was going to take an hour to get him out. ‘You’re an accident just waiting to happen,’ I told him. ‘Shove back.’

Another shuffle, but still no daylight between Frank’s nose and the door.

Apparently Frank was frozen in the sheepdog equivalent of crossing your legs. I caught sight of his tennis ball behind the antique milk can I use as an umbrella stand.

I gave the ball a nudge with my toe and sent it rolling out from behind the milk can and away from us.

Frank instinctively started after the tennis ball, taking two steps before he realized he’d been tricked.

Before his bladder had a chance to figure it out, too, I yanked open the door. Frank threw me a grateful look and ran out.

‘Whoa,’ a voice outside said.

I stuck my head out and saw Stephen Slattery flattened up against the railing of the porch steps, looking after Frank.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘Dog on a mission.’

‘I can see that,’ Stephen said, watching Frank water the red Maple. ‘Is he ever going to stop?’

‘It’s been a long day.’ I stepped out on the porch. ‘Longer for some than others. Want to come in?’

Stephen nodded and mounted the stairs, briefcase in hand.

‘Wine?’ I asked, and immediately flashed back to two days ago, when I’d asked his sister the same question.

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